By my last Breath
by DreamingOfAdventure
Summary: A nightmare haunts the sleep of Thorin Oakenshield. He realizes that beside the oath of doing everything in his might to reclaim Erebor, there is still another oath to make.


By my last Breath

_Lay down your head and I'll sing you a lullaby_

_Back to the years of loo-li lai-lay_

_And I'll sing you to sleep and I'll sing you tomorrow_

_Bless you with love for the road that you go_

The winter was harsh in this area. More often than not a snowstorm would hit the region and in doing so, houses or even small parts of a town have been destroyed.

On this day a snowstorm did not seem to disturb the usual peaceful atmosphere of the small village, which was built by men, but it was the cold. Seldom did you see a soul out on the streets. Most of the people stayed in their houses and they would only leave the warmth of their secure houses to get more firewood for their ovens. It appeared that if the fireplace stopped working it would equal the signing of a death sentence. Even in their warm houses the people tend to were layers over layers of clothing to keep their bodies warm.

One could not say that the cold did not affect the dwarf prince. As anyone else he would prefer nice summer weather over this deadly cold, but since he was no wizard or other entity of magic, the power of changing this dreadful weather in a more bearable one, was not his. Even though this weather may be harsh, he had to confess that he preferred this climate over heat every day. To fresh was the memory of Smaug the Terrible burning down his home, burning down Erebor. In summer, when the heat would reach it pike, the memory of the flames would come to surface again. He could swear that in these days the smell of burned wood and flesh dominates the air. Flames would dance before his eyes and he would blink more than usual, in a desperate attempt to banish the images of his burning hometown, the images of the darkest day of his people, from his mind.

The dwarf prince preferred the cold over the heat every day. Truth be told when he was working in the forge he did not feel much of the cold either way. The heat of the ovens warmed the room. The heat would tickle his face and would not leave any space for the cold that could attack his skin. Like already mentioned he detested the heat. But on the other hand he could not just stop working in the forge. His selling was their way of surviving. It meant that his sister Dis and his two nephews had a way to survive, at least until he would reclaim Erebor and they would live like the princess and princes they are. Until they were treated with the respect they deserve and honour would be brought back to the name of Durin, he would work as a simple smith.

So Thorin, the King under the mountain without a mountain, would ignore the heat of the forge. Ignore the memories for the sake of keeping his family alive, for the sake of granting them a better life in future.

A loud thump pulled him away from his train of thoughts. Dwalin, a loyal companion, was back at working at whatever he was working at. Thorin himself looked down at his own piece of metal. It would be a sword soon and probably one of the finest he had ever made. The man – a rich merchant – requested a sword made of the finest piece of metal that could be found in the forge. He reassured Thorin that he would pay the proper price if the handiwork meets his demands.

One could already make out the shape of the weapon and the prince planned on putting some engravings on it as soon as it would reach that stage of editing.

"Thorin" the deep grumbling voice of Dwalin reached his ears. He again looked up from his work and looked the other in the eyes.

"You do not seem focused today. Why don't you call it a day and go home."

Thorin looked back at his work again. The idea of going home to a warm meal and his two nephews was tempting, but his work still had to be finished. The merchant would come soon and he made it pretty clear that it was not a hardship for him to find a different smith to forge him the sword that he demanded. Dwalin must have caught up with his current train of thoughts, since he continued talking before Thorin even had the chance to answer.

"The merchant will not come for another day or two. You still have enough time to finish this fine piece of work and before you protest, what will happen if you work unfocused? You will mess up your work and then you will have to start over and I will guarantee you my friend, if that is the case you will surely not be ready on time. So go home, I got things covered here."

The dark haired prince nodded in agreement and laid his work beside. He grabbed his fur coat and stepped outside in the cold. It did not even take a second for the cold to attack his face, but that did not stop him. With determination in his stride he followed the path to the house, he occupied together with his sister and the two boys. The house was located on the outskirts of the town, it was not one of the best areas one could live in, but it was an area they could afford.

Oh, how he wished for the days that Erebor would once again be under dwarfish reign. But these days were still far away. No signs were seen, no bird made his way back to Erebor yet. The beast was still deep inside the mountain watching over all the gold. The front gate was still sealed and so every way into the mountain was denied.

Deep in his thoughts he did not notice that he had already reached his destination. Only when his feet made contact with the hard stone of the little step, that was right in front of the front door, did he comprehend that he was indeed already standing in front of the front door of his home. He shook the snow of his boots and made his way inside. There he hung his heavy coat on the coat racket near the entrance and stepped into the kitchen.

As expected, did he find his sister Dis in front of the stove and while stirring – likely another one of her stews – she hummed a song. He recognised the song as a lullaby he used to sing to her when sleep would to come over her as easily.

_May you sail far to the far fields of fortune_

_With diamonds and pearls at your head and your feet_

_And may you need never to banish misfortune_

_May you find kindness in all that you meet_

Her soft voice singing the song made him smile. It was only a small smile but in days like these, it was more than nothing. The song made him think back to the days of their childhood. Dis, he and Frerin would roam the halls of Erebor. Mischief was never far behind them and new adventures lay ahead of them every day.

The clearing of his throat announced his presence to Dis. She turned to him; a smile was adorning her face as well.

"You are home early."

It was not a question; it was more like a statement. There was no judgement in it, just plain delight.

"Dwalin has things covered at the forge; He said I should spend some time with the boys."

Their eyes met and he could see her smile getting even bigger. It made his heart grow fonder to see his baby sister in such a state of happiness. Hope grew in his body and the situation did not seem too bad anymore.

"I bet the boys would love that. You know that they admire there great uncle Thorin."

The statement made him smile again. The boys really seemed to admire him, why he did not understand. He often caught them while pretending to be him; they would start walking like him and talk like him. Once he even caught them wearing his coat. Even though they were not supposed to touch things that did not belong to them without permission, he could not stay mad at them. Even if he did not see himself as their father, Dis had pointed out, more than once, that – especially to Kili since he never had the opportunity of meeting Fain – to them he was a father figure.

The boys must have heard the conservation between the two adults, since they came screaming down the stairs. Well, Kili at least. Fili was strolling behind always having a close eye on his baby brother.

Fili reminded Thorin a lot of Fain. Not only because of his golden locks, the same that adored Fain's head, but also because of his behaviour. Fili was a rather calm child. He always thought about the consequences of his action before he actually acted. He behaved more like an adult as than a child of ten years. Fain was no different. He was younger than Thorin but there were times when he seemed a lot wiser than Thorin and his action may have been more mature than Thorin's.

The only exception in Fili's behaviour was when it concerned his brother. Some children deemed it funny to tease the youngest Durin because of his more elvish than dwarfish looks. Fili was fast to put then straight on the fact that Kili was indeed a proper dwarf and if they do not want to come home with some bruises they should leave their comments at bay.

Never had Thorin seen his nephew as angry as at that time, he even if he would never admit it out aloud even he – the great dwarf warrior – had felt respect for the dwarfling.

And then there was this bundle of energy he currently held in his arms. If Fili was the day, Kili would be the night. His dark hair contrasted the golden locks of his brother. They were defiantly a Durin trait – it is not that Fili did not have Durin in him; it just did not show as much in his appearance- but Kili was the spitting image of Thorin. It saddened him a bit that Kili did not hold much of his father in him, but on the other hand every time he looked at his youngest nephew he saw his little brother Frerin, who died way too early. Dis once mentioned that when looking at her youngest she saw a mixture out of her two brothers and even a faint glimmer of her late husband.

But not just in appearance contrasted the two heirs of Durin each other. Whether Fili was calm and meditative, Kili was short-tempered and high-energy. Kili was always the first in line to pull a prank and of course his brother was never far behind to take the blame should his brother be caught red-handed. Luckily, the youngest Durin was quite talented in not being caught so it was hardly the case that Fili had to box his brother out of such a situation. Furthermore, Kili had the talent of persuading his brother in joining in his mischief. Dis would probably slap him with one of her frying pans if he would ever admit the following out loud, but he had to say that the two boys were quite good at their mischief and once in a while even he could not hold back a chuckle at the boys jokes.

"Uncle, uncle" Thorin looked down at the young chocolate brown haired boy in his arms.

"You will not believe what happened today!" Kili's energy was bubbling over. He gesticulated wild with his arms and Thorin had to duck his head away more than once so that Kili's arms would not hit him straight in the face.

"Uncle! You are not listening" The boy wriggled out of his group and stood beside his brother, a pout taking place on his face.

Fili just smirked at his brother behaviour, his head shaking lightly. He was not annoyed by his brother; the dwarf prince could just imagine that Thorin may be a little bit overextended by Kili's babbling.

"What Kili tried to tell you uncle was that he actually climbed that really high tree today and then I asked him to throw one of these delicious apples down that you can only find in the high branches of the tree. I think what Kili was really excited to tell you about is that he managed to drop the apple dead centre on my hand."

"Was it that what you wanted to tell me Kili?"

"Exactly!"

Thorin ruffled the boy's hair and afterwards did the same to Fili, careful that he did not destroy the braids that the boy wore in his hair. The braids that symbolized his status in the society, the braids that showed everyone, that he was the first heir of Durin. Kili would wear braids too, but the hair of the youngest was just as wild as the dwarfling himself and any braid that was carefully braided in to the dark brown mess was unravelled in mere moments.

"So that is where you were off to when you were supposed to only stay in the yard" Dis voice sounded from the stove, her look laid, with an reprimanding glint in it, on her two sons. Said two looked guiltily at the floor, the tiles seemed pretty interesting. Kili's head was a little bit more bowed than his brothers and he did not dare too glance up to his mother. Thorin guessed that it was his idea to leave the yard and the older one just tagged along to watch out that nothing happened to his baby brother.

"Come on eat now boys, I don't stand in front of this stove the whole time to let all the food go to waste."

Dinner was peacefully. Kili continued to talk about how he hit Fili's hand with the apple, meanwhile Dis scolded him for eating with his mouth full. Fili just shook his head again at Kili who ignored is mother's reprimand. Thorin just watched the whole scenario.

With a lot of whining, mostly from Kili's part, Thorin and Dis managed to get the boys to bed after the sun set. The two brothers still shared a room, even when they were slowly getting too old for that, well at least in the opinions of the two older Durin's.

Too well could he remember the argument that was caused the last time the topic of two different rooms was brought up. Unfortunately, did the two boys inherit the stubbornness of a Durin. Dis and he came to the conclusion that even if they separated the boys they would have to lock the doors for them to stay in their own room in the night, if not one of them – most likely Kili – would just wander to the others room and sleep there for the night.

"Uncle, can you tell us a story?" Both of them looked up to him with their big puppy eyes.

"Hm?"

"Please?"

Oh damn these puppy eyes, even Smaug would turn into a pet reptile while enduring these looks.

"Which story do you want to hear?"

Immediately, was a grin forming on each of the boys faces. They look at each other for a short moment before both of them simultaneously said:

"The one with the Oakenshield."

The boys meant the story of the battle Azanulbizar. A battle where many great dwarf warriors found death, the battle where many of them, who Thorin held closed to his heart, fell. He knew that the boys did not ask for this story to cause him grief but rather to here of the brave act that their uncle committed. For some reason, the boys were obsessed by the story of how he fought back the white orc – Azog – how he grabbed the Oakenshield and cut of the monsters hand. Balin had told them the story once or probably more times. He knew that the other dwarf explained his nephews that the battle was the moment that he accepted and saw Thorin as his leader.

Glancing in Dis direction he saw the look in her eyes. A look that clearly said, that if he did not censor the story, no Oakenshield may protect him from her wrath and her frying pan. He had too much respect for his baby sister – hell; every dwarf had respect for Dis, daughter of Thrain, - to challenge her.

"So if that is the story you wish for, it may be the story I'm going to tell you."

He gestured the boys to sit down on their bed. He took a seat in the middle of them and in an instant they were glued to his side. Both of them looked up to him, excitement glowing in their eyes. So he began to tell the story – of course he let out the gruesome parts. It did not take long for the boys to fall asleep and he made his way quietly out of their room. Outside he saw that Dis also was sleeping peacefully on the sofa in the living area. He threw one of the bear furs over her and went to his own room. Sleep overcame him soon but it was not meant to be a peaceful one.

_The noise was overwhelming. Orcs where screaming, war cries were uttered, metal was clashing and cries were to be heard. He was busy blocking the attacks of orcs and dealing out his own blows. He did not know how many of these creatures he had already killed; he only knew that there were still a lot more coming. The others were in the majority and with every second to go by more dwarfs were finding their death. He was on the brink of death himself. Blood was leaking from the numerous wounds which adorned his body. But it was not only his physical condition that made him vulnerable. Just mere moments ago he had to watch how one nasty orc pierced his dirty, blood-stained sword through the body of his younger brother. Frerin's scream was still ringing in his ears. He was fast in avenging his brother's death, but reviving him from the death was not a power that he possessed. His brother would wait for him and with that in mind he carried on with the battle. None the less more dwarfish blood than dark one was covering the ground and Thorin knew that something had to be done. _

_And then he heard it. A roar, the roar of a monster. Then he saw him coming. Azog the Defiler took part of the battle. He marched up to his grandfather and raised his mace. He started to attack Thror and the king defended himself with his shield and sword. The mace hit the shield and Thror was urged back. The white orc attacked fiercely, his roar drowned out all of the other noise. The king could not keep up with this monster for much longer, Azog's oath to wipe out the line of Durin gave him strength and endurance. Blind rage controlled the blows of the orc and it was not long until he made the first step to fulfil his vow. Thror, King under the mountain, was beheaded and the dwarfs of Erebor were leaderless. _

_Azog held the head high up over the heads of every other. He showed it like a trophy, a roar accompanied his action. When he saw Thorin he threw the head towards him. The head rolled over the battlefield, the prince eyes never left it. He screamed; his frustration and pain finally caught up with him. The grip on his sword tightened and he made is way towards the monster and took away yet another part of his family. He faced down the pale orc. Blows were hitting his shield and he could feel the sheer strength of his opponent, but he did not back down. What would it matter if he lost, the battle was lost either way, all that was left was his revenge and satisfaction. _

_Azog swung his mace and all Thorin perceived was his shield flying out of his grip, with yet another roar did the mace come flying again and the grip on his sword slipped. He had not even registered that they fought near an abyss; it was not until he fell and his body hit the cold ground that he noticed it. There was not much time for thinking. The white orc made his way to him again, he crawled back, desperately trying to find something to defend himself. His hand closed around something and just in time he put it in in front of his face. The weapon of the other hit the object again and again. Meanwhile he had raised to his feet but still there was nothing between him and the orc than this oaken branch. Azog's wrath grew and his blows became more fierce. He lost his balance and once again he found himself on his back with his opponent just above him. The oaken branch still in gripped tightly by his left hand, did he search for a weapon with his other. His hand found the hilt of a sword and he stood up again. With a cry he swung his sword and cut off the monsters arm. Azog's scream was deafening, he clutched his arm with his other hand and went down. The defiler learned the strength alone will not break the line of Durin. _

_New hope was rising within Thorin. He raised his Oakenshield high over his head and let out a war cry: _

_"Baruk Khazâd! Khazâd ai-mênu!"_

_Shortly after the words were uttered, there was a blur. _

_He was back in the battle again, Azog was still fighting with his grandfather and it was shortly before the King was to be beheaded. Then it happened, again did Azog held up the head but it was not the one of the King. No, it was Fili's. The blond locks dirtied by blood; a trail of blood was seen from his mouth to his shin. His eyes were wide open and fear was clearly seen in them. Then the orc held up his other hand. Not his mace was held in it but yet another head. Just like Fili's, Kili's hair was smeared by blood. His face was bloody and beaten, all innocence was taken away. This monster threw the heads towards Thorin and just as his grandfathers, they rolled down the battlefield. They came to a stop right in front of his feet. _

_Both of the boys opened their eyes and a look of reproach was cast towards Thorin. _

"_Why did you not save us uncle?"_

"_Why did we have to die?"_

"_Why could you not protect us?"_

"_Why did you survive?"_

"_Why are you so weak?"_

"_Help us uncle!"_

Thorin woke with a scream and just mere seconds later the boys and Dis came running into his room. Fili was the first to speak:

"Uncle what happened? Why did you scream?"

He looked at the trio and gestured the boys to come closer. As soon as they were in reach of his arms he embraced them. He held them tightly to his chest. He needed to feel their breath on his skin, he needed to make sure that it was just a bad dream.

"Uncle what is the matter?"

Kili had wriggled his head free from his gripped and now looked up to his uncle. His worried look was piercing right into the dwarf prince heart and he just gripped the boys tighter.

"Nothing is the matter my boy, I just wanted to reassure myself that you two are safe."

"Where we in danger, uncle?"

Fili looked around in search of something that could probably harm him and his brother. Thorin just pressed their heads to his chest again and they were quick in wrapping their small arms around his torso. He buried his face into their hair and tried hard to not let the tears slip. The images of his dream still haunted his mind, he could still heir their voices in his head.

"Uncle, you are hurting us!"

With a start did he loosen his grip on his nephews but not enough for them to slip away. He was not ready to let them go yet. He was afraid that if he did he would not be able to protect them.

"Thorin what is the matter, my dear brother?"

He raised his head to look at his sister, she stood in the doorway and her look was resting on him. She had probably already an idea what could be the problem but still she waited for his answer.

"It was not more than a bad dream. A dream I would like to forget."

"What was it about?"

He did not answer her question. He just looked down at the boys who were about to fall asleep on his chest again. He knew in that moment that he would do everything to protect these two. Not again would he allow that his family was ripped a part in such a gruesome way. No he would do everything to protect the boys. They would not die on his watch. They would not leave this life before him because if they did it would not take long for him to follow. He did not want to ever miss their cherish attitude and their childish pranks. If it was his decision to make, he would lock them away somewhere safe where no harm could overcome them. But he knew that that was not option. He knew that the boys would long for adventure and he would be by their side to protect them and to guide them.

"Nothing really, it just reminded of an oath which as long overdue to take."

He smiled at the boys and then at her. She left the room and went to sleep herself. The boys had already fallen asleep on their uncle's chest and Thorin was the last to wake them up. He lay down again and with his last wake moments he swore to himself:

_Never will any harm befall these boys, my sword will defeat their enemies and my shield will take the blows, by my last breath I shall protect them. _

_May there always be angels to watch over you _

_To guide you each step of the way _

_To guard you and keep you safe from all harm_

_Loo-li, loo-li, lai-lay_

**A/N: **

First of all, thank you for reading this one-shot

Second, I am **no native speaker** therefore I hope that I did not make to many

mistakes in this piece of fiction. If I did, I beg your pardon.

Third, I would be nice if you leave a review since my goal is to improve my

writing skills. Exspecially, my comma placement.

**Please no flames, just constructive criticism. **

**Disclaimer: **None of the used characters are mine. They are property of J. R. Tolkien.

This is only a piece of fiction and not meant to offend anyone.

I do not make any money out of this and is purely written for my own entertainment.

The lyrics used in this story are from the "Sleepsong" by Secret Garden and all credits belong

to them.

DreamingOfAdventure


End file.
